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Sikko the Clown
Sikko is a Gotham based villain who appeared first after a string of murders and then again after an explosion at Arkham Asylum two years later. He's actually a child possessed by a demonic being. He's rather grotesque and sick, with a taste for the murder of children and a sadistic view on the suffering of them. He's rather twisted and has the darkest of humor. Character History It started out as a regular burglary job. The twelve goons were sent out to rob an old abandoned house located under the overpass. As they broke their way in, the door slammed shut behind them, seemingly repaired. Faint circus music was heard, stunning but interesting the group. They made their way to its source, the back room. Once inside they saw the large circus tent. Looking back, they realized that they'd been somehow transported to another plane. It was colorless, dead, flat and void. The sky was black, the ground was gray, but the yellow and red tent glowed brightly, with red white and yellow lights adorning the structure. It was striped vertically in a red yellow red yellow pattern with a couple red flags at the tip. Circus music blared from its open flaps. The group curiously stole in. "Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Circ de Malevolence! Have your seats, and the show will begin!" The group took their seats, what else could they do? The tent's "doors" zipped up shut, and then the zipper vanished. Suddenly in a cloud of smoke, he appeared. His red satin suit adorning his less than human face. He tipped his hat and took a bow. "Hello boys. Name's Sikko. Sikko the clown." Suddenly he was seated behind them. "And have I got an offer for you..." he told his tale. His master needed a sacrifice, someone pure hearted and with a pure mind for Sikko to take. If his soul was indeed pure, he'd be free of his torment. He told them of his master, the clown of nightmares. How he'd been defeated by a group of kids in Maine, but tricked him into a bargain for power. Then came his offer. If they did being the shell, he'd give them the chance for cosmic power, unlimited abilities. They knew just the target. The boy that'd been watching them for weeks seemed easy to over power. Easy to trick. They'd been hoping he'd either join up, or do something stupid and get killed. Joker had told them to wait it out, that the boy would be curious. He'd never reported their crimes before, why not give him a show? The boy had snuck out almost every night to watch them. His name was Troy, and his father's name was Charlie Jay Daniels Charlie Jay grew up in a small farm town on the outskirts of Central City called Covil. It was a large, green filled land where he worked on his grandparents' farm as a farm aid. He took care of many animals and worked well until his grandparents died in a house fire. At the age of twenty four, Charlie Jay sold the family farm and moved into the city. He'd gotten a job as a garbage man, making better pay than you'd expect. It was here that he met Karla Amanda Thomas, out on one of his jobs dumping trash into a junkyard. Karla was a strong woman who'd grown up hard due to a physically and sexually abusive father and no mother. She'd made something of her life however and worked in the same landfill that Charlie Jay did. Years had passed and Karla had gone from trash woman to housemother. They had three children, David Blaine Daniels, Troy Richie Daniels, and Isabella Sara Daniels. David was a popular boy. In high school he'd made his varsity football team, gained constant straight A's and was loved by everyone. Little did anyone know that at home he was violently abusive toward Troy, his little brother. He'd constantly tied him up, sexually abusing him due to his own dark past as a choir boy in a church with the lead of the choir. He took all of his withheld rage out on his brother, causing his brother to finally break. Troy had grown up forced by his parents to live in his elder brother's shadow, as his fear to tell his parents what was occurring overwhelmed him. Finally it had gotten to the point where he would no longer speak, he was essentially an emotionless unfeeling robot. When David would hit him, he'd simply turn his head with the punch, and then stare his brother in the eye with a dark and sinister smile. This had caused David's abuse to be moved toward four year old Isabella. Troy in truth still feared his brother, but that fear had changed to hate. He'd gone out, sneaking from his bedroom window late at night where he eyed what he'd been having a glance at for nights. At first it appeared to be a regular crime spree squad of Joker goons, men dressed up like the Juggalo followers of the Insane Clown Posse musicians. Tonight however, there was something off. Here in this dark underpass, they seemed to be less cautious than the average gang member would be. The final clown left the front door of the building wide open, allowing Troy to steal in. Truth be told, the backpack he held onto held more than a few items. He was running away from home at the age of twelve. He was planning to join them tonight, never look back. His brother was already dead. He'd spilled his blood after stabbing him slowly to death. The clowns knew he was behind them, and they cleverly lead him to the back room, locking the door behind him. Troy could here carnival music, it sounded bright and friendly. This was unlike anything he'd seen. He loved the smells, the sight. He could find himself living here forever. He stepped into the middle of the circus ring, and seemed to be alone. Suddenly a shaft of light shot down onto him. The spotlight was blinding, causing Troy to stumble back. "Well well well, ladies and ungentlemen, it appears we have a volunteer! Why don't you tell us your name bucko?!" In a stammering stutter that Troy mustered up he answered. "T-t-Troy R-Richie Da-Daniels." He looked about wildly for the source of the voice. "Well Troy Richie DaDaniels, you're one lucky boy! You get to help with our little magic trick!" Suddenly, he found his arms and legs bound by colorful ropes, pulling him to the ground in an X shape. Struggling did nothing but move him down faster. "Help! Help me!" No aide would come. The music grew dark and twisted as the clowns that now surrounded him waited and yelled out "Alright boss...here he is!..we're waiting...c...come on...!" Nothing happened for nearly an hour. The clowns began to sweat. Had they done something wrong? Finally came the answer. The laugh. That menacing laugh that'd stay with Troy for the rest of his life. His screams melded with the sounds of joy. Out of the ground, between Troy's legs came a white gloved hand, and then another. Quickly, it spread the ground apart like clay. He sprung up as the ground reformed, and landed where the hole once was. He was a clown, clothed in bright red formal wear, mixed with clownish attire and a top hat. His face wasn't quite human. It's form was like something out of a nightmare. The image of him might've been funny if it wasn't so crude and real. His skin, wrinkled and heavily exaggerated in places that didn't normally stick out that way. Every part of his face, cheek bones, chin, dimples, crow's feet, all of it stuck out individually like a sore thumb against his painted white and designed face. The makeup around his mouth ended at sharp points, as did the lines over his eyes. Even that red dot at the end of his nose looked scary. . His bright red hair loose hanging hair matched his clothing while his smile looked stiff. "Well, this is it?" He chuckled. "Ya know, I didn't expect something pathetic. Maybe someone bigger or stronger, but I 'spose in something like this, I can hide. I can be everywhere. And funny enough, they'll just think you're crazy." Troy's cold sweat rolled down his face. He could only ask who the clown was in his mind. He was too frozen to actually speak. "Who am I?" Had he heard Troy's thoughts? "Funny you should ask that kid." His voice mimicked that of a character from a dream that Troy had had at a very young age. "I'm every nightmare you've ever had, I'm your worst dream come true. I'll drive you crazy." And then that of a famous politician. "You have nothing to fear but fear itself." And then his regular voice "and that, kid, that's who I am." He giggled lightly. "I'm just a clown who likes to play tricks on people. A prankster with a gun, a jokester with a knife, a psychopath with powers." It wasn't until now that Troy realized his own mouth had been moving. The clown was gone. "And more than that." A giggle. "I'm you." The ropes untied, as Sikko stood to his feet. He clapped his hands. "Well well ladies and gentlemen. It looks like I'm finally free. Thanks!" He grinned and made his way out. "But sir! Ain't you gonna lead us? Show us what you promised." "Hahaha the trick? This was it. You sold your souls to my captor, all twelve of you. In return he let me have a body to live in again. Don't you get it? I'm not a God. Hah, I'm a lost soul who tricked you into the same thing that chained me here, and now look." He smiled. "I'M FREE! Now you'll be serving my master until you find some idiots willing to perform the ritual for you." As he flicked his hands, the various clowns screamed in their newfound madness. Forever tortured by the visages of their worst nightmares, until the end of their mortality, where they'd find themselves ghosts. Just simple spirits with no powers. It was then that Sikko noticed something was wrong. He could feel Troy inside of him, fighting. This boy wasn't pure. He had blood on his hands. "You..little bastard." He chuckled. Sikko knew that this wouldn't be as easy as he'd have hoped it would be. In order for complete control, the child's soul would've had to have been totally pure, lacking corruption at all. This boy... He wasn't. There was blood on his hands, and searching through Troy's mind, he'd discovered it was family blood. Sikko found himself grinning with Troy's mouth. He climbed atop the roof of the cathedral's interior. He waited lightly in the rafters, for his first target. He had to see how well this spiritual transfer had worked. To what degree did he have power? Click. Click. Click. Click. The woman's heels tapped against the old hardwood floor of the cathedral. Sikko's right eyebrow rose lightly. What was a woman like her doing in a place like this? It was then that he noticed the priest. Dressed in his long black robe, he awaited her as he lead her into the confessional. Sikko's smile twisted. Isolation. It was perfect. He waited first, listening in, concentrating on her mind. "Forgive me father, for I have sinned." Nothing yet...just simple thoughts, but it was a start. He was reading her mind. The roof of the confessional was odd. It was open over the top of the priest's section, and closed over the woman's. He tilted his head, glaring as he leapt up into the rafters. Well... he could leap high, that was a start. He kept his balance, carefully moving around the rafters as he untied a support rope, causing slight instability of the rafter. He fashioned it into a noose as he smirked. He didn't lower the rope itself, but instead he'd tied it around the beam itself, and hung by his legs. The boy didn't seem to weigh much at all. He slowly climbed down it like a spider. He twisted the boy's body in ways it was never meant to move, but he didn't feel any pain from it. As long as he was in control, he could twist any which way. He swung back and forth over the priest, his grin widening as he landed in the priest's lap, quickly covering his mouth and nose to cover up sound. "Shhh." He placed his finger to his lips, and focused in. The priest's mind raced with fear. There. That thought. He caught it. "Clowns?" He thought. "Really?" He smirked, as his face twisted into his regular form. That inhuman twisted face. The wrinkles that made his skin look rough, demonic, almost false. The white and red makeup, his red clownish hair, even his clothing. He smirked as he saw the priest praying desperately. "....Lead us not into temptation...bu-" "-t Deliver us from evil?" The priest's eyes shot open. "Your prayers work well, don't they buddy? Listen bucko." He continued as the woman droned on and on about her various sins. "Pray to me. I might let you go." The priest obeyed, abandoning his faith for his own safety, he let it go. He prayed earnestly, begging, pleading. Sikko laughed, biting into the priest's neck now, and ripping at it, spitting the chunks out, and repeating until most of his skin was gone. He died there, in his confessional with his abandoned faith. "Father?" The woman knocked on the side. "Father are you still there?""Yes child." His voice now mimicked the priest's as he forced himself to keep from giggling. "What must I do to repent?" Oh, this would be fun. "You sick whore." He replied, the woman gasped. "For what you've done, I doubt you can be redeemed." "B-But Father..." "No. Shut your slut mouth. To be saved from your sins, you must end your life." "W-Wha-" "It's the only way my child." She sobbed, crying loudly as Sikko stifled a giggle. "It has to be specific." He took a crucifix from the shelf nearby, and slipped it through the grated window, before once again sliding it shut. "Have you ever seen 'The Exorcist'?" Sikko made his way out of the blood soaked building, his movements agile and limber as he flipped up the building's exterior like a circus performer would up a pole or tent. He looked out across the city. Crime, death, fear, it felt alive. He would be happy here and- Troy grabbed to his head, fighting the entity that he'd just been forced to watch murder one person, and talk another into suicide. More blood on his hands. Troy knew he'd never wash it off, not completely. The rain tapped lightly on his skin as he laid his back against one of the cones atop the church. He crouched, into a fetal position, crying into his arms. Sikko danced out in front of him. "Hey kid, cheer up." Troy's eyes met his. "Live a little! Hey, you might as well, it's not like the guys in there are gonna live out for you." He pointed his thumb back at the building below. "Why did you...do that?" Troy sobbed lightly. "'Why?' Kid, I don't get what you mean. Does a clown need a reason to put on makeup and entertain? To twist a balloon into an animal? Does the reaper need a reason to take a life or pull his hand back? No." "They...hadn't done anything to deserve-" "The priest was cheating on his wife, he'd been one of that woman's clients. She hadn't recognized him. She was a prostitute and had killed her child. No one's innocent kid." Troy looked up again, moving his face from his arms. "Your brother deserved it. What about the rest of 'em?" "The rest of-" "Yeah kid! The other losers. Your ma and pa practically killed you inside. Think about it! Forcing you to live in the shadow of your brother, that sick twisted bastard. Your kid sister, stealing the spotlight, forcing you in the dark. They loved them more than they ever cared about you." "You're lying!" "Am I?" He moved, only inches from Troy's face. "Really?" "...no." "Right then! Let's have some fun." He held his hand out. "Come on kid, I ain't gonna eat ya. I sorta need you, and you need me. You need my power, my abilities. They make you someone." Troy thought for only a moment before grabbing the clown's hand. Sikko dissolved into Troy's body before the two took off toward his home.The lights were on and alert. The police had already left the house. Charlie Jay and his wife had assumed their own version of what had happened. Someone had slipped in through Troy's window and tried to kidnap him. In a flurry, David tried to protect him and the intruder had stabbed him to death. This version of their idea of "truth" was their only way to cope with this madness. As the clown stole in through the still open window, which had been left open in hopes that their son would come back. Sikko quickly read into the family's mind...and discovered something. Troy's mother. She feared her late son. Perhaps he'd done to her what he'd done to Troy. Charlie Jay, however, had a distinctly large phobia of the reanimated dead. This would work flawlessly in his favor. He focused in, as his mental projection surrounded him for both of them. He'd hit them both at the same time with the same image hard. His body was now that of a rotted corpse... not any rotted corpse however, it was the rotted corpse of David in advanced deterioration stages. He drug his legs roughly toward the living room, where the family waited up. Isabella was still in her bed by this point. The shuffling was heard almost immediately by Troy's parents. Then came the screams. The pair cowered together in a painfully easy single target. Sikko did exactly what Charlie Jay feared he would. He ate them. Slowly and painfully, keeping sure to keep them alive for most of the duration of the feast. He used a portion of Charlie's shirt to wipe his face clean as he burped loudly. "Well, three down, one to go." "W-Wait." "What's your problem kid?" "She's a little girl...we can't do this." "And why not? Kid I'm a clown. It's my job to entertain children." "Not Isabella." "What's she done to deserve life? Kid, she's stolen your parents from you. She took your place. You think that your parents cared after she arrived? Really? Tell me honestly. When's the last time you heard the words 'I'm proud of you?' Think. THINK. Tell me honestly...do you feel remorse?" He'd choked her. She... she was dead. "What...what have I done...?" "We." Oh no, but the deeds weren't silent. Sirens now rang out, neighbors calling the authorities due to the noise levels coming from the house. They'd heard the screams of the family, and the sick laughter as well. The same squad that was once out looking for Troy now arrived to find him there, in a pool of blood, holding his blue skinned sister. He was rocking back and forth, his hair in disarray, his eyes wild and large. He could only repeat the words. "The clown did it...the clown did it." Troy's face had been dolled up like a circus clown, his face spattered with blood. At first it was assumed that his family had been killed by goons that had kidnapped him as nearby in an old abandoned building under an overpass twelve dead bodies all hung by nooses had been found in one of the cobwebbed rooms. The police had investigated, however, and discovered Troy's own fingerprints upon the toddler's neck, as well as matching dental records to the bite marks along his parents. He was issued quickly into Arkham Asylum. During a large break out, he'd escaped back into the city, finding his way among the Funhouse Felons, a Gotham group of circus clowns. Sikko awaited, dormant for the time being until finally Troy had returned to the church building. Remember this place kid? Hah! Good ol' times! I can still smell that blood. Fresh as mom's apple pie...wait no, she's dead too ain't she?''Troy shuddered. "You're not real...you're not...real...all in my head...all in my head." "Son, are you okay?" The janitor of the church had stayed later than usual tonight, perhaps too late. He placed his hand on Troy's shoulder. "P-Please....leave." "Listen kid I'm here to help, what's the matter boy?" ''Yeah, what's the matter BUCKO?! "Stop...Please!" "Kiddo, you alright in the head?" Yeah Troy, you alright in the head? Oh wait, nah. Sane people don't eat their parents, don't strangle children, and don't kill Janitors. Later the next day, news of the kind old Janitor, Nesley Sweet, had been drowned in his own cleaning fluid until his skull had been crushed inside of the yellow cleaning bucket. The entire Cathedral's floor had been covered in the blood, as someone had used Nesley's blood mixed with the cleaning solution to mop up the floors. The event had echoed back to the one from two years ago, when the old priest and a prostitute were found massacred inside the confessional booth. You ain't gettin' rid of me kid. Character Abilities and Traits *Illusion Casting *Deceptive behavior *Power Growth with every innocent life taken Category:Villains Category:Villain Category:Clown Category:Characters Category:Gotham Category:Gotham City